Tomás and His Brother Initiated Me in the Basement

There are memories one keeps locked in a drawer, and this one is mine. The first time I had sex was in a strange, almost clandestine way, and for years I convinced myself that if anyone found out, it would ruin my entire life. Today, from a distance, I don’t regret a thing. I had just turned nineteen, with a curiosity that had been burning inside me long before I knew what to do with it.

My name is Adrián. Back then I was skinny, not even five foot seven, with very fair skin, blond hair, and light-blue eyes. I lived with my parents in a neighborhood near the port, an old area built up by Italian immigrant families and the occasional Turkish shopkeeper. Good people, almost all of them from southern Italy, who had brought their customs along in their suitcases.

I was fascinated by going into their homes and discovering things that didn’t exist in mine: vegetable gardens, preserves in jars, wine they made out back. But what truly enthralled me was Tomás’s house, belonging to a neighbor my age with two older brothers. Tomás was the one I got along with best, and his house held a secret that ended up becoming mine.

The land sloped, so when they built the house, they took advantage of it to make a kind of stone room beneath the home. Rough walls, a barred door, a concrete floor. Tomás’s mother would let us in until his father came home from work. That place seemed like a dungeon to me, and for some reason I liked that. We spent our afternoons there, sometimes with Andrés, the middle brother, because Leandro, the oldest, already had a job and was busy with other things.

I don’t remember exactly how it started, but I do remember how it grew. We were awakening to sex without anyone explaining anything to us, learning in a disorderly way, repeating what was passed from mouth to mouth among the boys in the neighborhood.

One afternoon, after a long conversation full of suggestive hints, Tomás and I started taking off our clothes. I was left in my underwear, afraid to get completely naked, when Andrés appeared and began insisting that I take everything off. Just then I heard my mother shouting for me to come eat. I hurriedly got dressed and ran across to my house, sighing with relief that I had escaped that moment. Or so I thought then.

***

The real beginning was a game. On an old wooden table we used as an examining table, we took turns playing patient and doctor. Silly, yes, but it was the excuse for everything that came afterward. That afternoon it was my turn to be the patient, and this time Tomás insisted that I get completely naked. I felt embarrassed, strangely bashful, so I lay down in my underwear. He tried to pull it down, but I wouldn’t let him.

Reluctantly, he examined me through the fabric, touching my body and asking me in a serious voice if anything hurt. When his hands reached my buttocks, something changed. He didn’t touch me inside, he didn’t even come that close, but that contact sparked a sensation of pleasure I hadn’t expected. I got hard without being able to stop it.

From that day on, things heated up between us. Tomás began suggesting that we masturbate together. I refused and asked him to repeat the doctor game, because I liked having him examine me, touch me under that pretense of innocence. Every time he insisted that I get undressed, I told him:

—Next time, I promise.

And I kept putting it off until one day I gave in. I was mortified to show myself, but I liked it when he began caressing my skin, feeling his hand travel over my back and spread my buttocks. He turned me over and discovered that I was completely hard. I tried to cover myself, but he stopped me.

—You’re horny. So am I. Shall we jerk off together? —he said, pulling down his pants.

His cock was a couple of fingers longer than mine. I felt an attraction I hadn’t expected, because I had never considered myself homosexual or thought about other men that way. But there was something about that moment, the two of us naked, both hard, that swept me along. We began touching ourselves at the same time, and when I saw Tomás come, something broke and rebuilt itself inside me forever.

***

That began happening every afternoon. We undressed, masturbated together, and little by little started adding new things. Longer caresses, games in which he tied my wrists, me lying facedown on the table while he explored my back. One afternoon he wanted to put a finger inside me and I wouldn’t let him; the next day, I did. And it was far more pleasurable than I had imagined.

Until one day he showed up with an old brush. After discussing it for a while, I ended up being the patient again. He soaped it and began sliding it slowly over my opening while I felt the intrusion moving through me. I couldn’t contain my erection. He told me it was the most sensual thing he had ever seen, talking as he moved it, pulled it out, and put it back in.

—It would be nice to put something else in there —he murmured.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to imagine what he meant, either, although inside I wanted it.

Because of my upbringing, my fear, a thousand things, I stopped myself at the final step. But I continued giving myself to him as his patient, his guinea pig, his whatever. Until one afternoon he climbed on top of me. I told him no several times, and he convinced me again in that voice of his.

—Just between your legs. Nothing else —he promised.

—All right, but only that —I gave in.

I felt his hot member sliding between my tightly pressed thighs, and although fear kept me from letting him inside, the friction against my buttocks quickly brought him to the edge. He came between my legs. I cleaned myself with a rag and kept staring at his still-erect, wet cock, and it attracted me in an almost irresistible way. I crossed back home, locked myself in the bathroom, and masturbated to put out the fire. But something different was already growing inside me.

***

The definitive step came one cool, rainy afternoon. We were talking when Tomás suggested we get naked.

—But it’s cold —I protested.

—I know, but we’ll warm each other up —he said with that smile.

I laughed and took off my clothes. I was a little cold until he hugged me, trying to warm my body, touching me as I finished undressing. I don’t know what happened to me, but his caresses gradually carried me into a strange state, almost a trance, and I let him lay me facedown on the table.

He climbed on top. I felt his member between my buttocks, his hand separating my legs, his glans resting right against my opening.

—No, Tomás, please —I murmured.

But he continued, with a skill and patience that disarmed me. He played with his cock against my buttocks, gently slapped them, relaxed me without my realizing it. Without thinking, I lifted my ass a little.

—Just a little, nothing more —he told me.

—All right, but only that.

When the head began opening me, I felt discomfort and a whimper escaped me.

—Do you like it? —he asked.

—I don’t know, honestly.

—Do you want me to keep going?

I was intrigued and aroused at the same time, not knowing whether it was right or wrong, and I think that uncertainty was precisely what kept me from deciding. As I felt the tip pressing, a shiver ran through my whole body.

—Do whatever you want —I said, surrendering.

With one thrust, most of it went in. I cried out at that foreign body entering me. Another push and it was all the way inside. I felt a strange mixture of discomfort and arousal, my hands gripping the edges of the table, my toes curled tight. When he began to move, slow and steady, my body gradually yielded to the new sensation.

Every time he pulled out, he sucked me inward; every time he went in, he pushed everything before him. I felt dominated, partly humiliated, and understood that the opposite was happening to him: he was growing, swelling, taking possession of me. From that afternoon on, he became my owner, and I, for a while, his submissive. His thrusts grew stronger, rougher, until a shudder ran through him and he came inside me. He collapsed onto my back, sweaty, holding me, while we both lay still, catching our breath.

We dressed in silence, as if we had done something forbidden. We had, without a doubt, but that pleasure was priceless.

***

We had been carrying on our affair for almost a month, and it had become routine. I wanted something more without really knowing what. We became too careless. One afternoon, on an old mattress, just as Tomás had put it inside me, the gate opened and Andrés walked in.

I didn’t know what to do. I covered myself, stammering.

—We were playing, Andrés.

—Nice game —he said, leaning against the frame. —I want to take part. When your mother finds out, she’s going to be angry.

—Please, don’t tell her anything.

—In exchange for what?

—I have to go —I cut him off, hurriedly dressing and crossing back home.

Three or four days passed. The doorbell rang. I opened it, and there stood Andrés. I almost wet myself from fright. He was nearly a head taller than me, and at that moment he seemed enormous.

—Is your mother here, blondie? —he said, touching my face.

—No, please, don’t tell her anything —I replied, frightened.

Just then my mother appeared, happy to see him.

—I came to get Adrián —he said calmly.

—Take him with you; he hasn’t gone out in days.

He grabbed me by the shoulder as if my own mother were handing me over to the wolf. We went out, and he took me to his father’s storeroom, let us in, and bolted the door.

—Please, Andrés, forgive me.

—I have nothing to forgive you for. You’re just paying me back for keeping my mouth shut.

He made me undress. I resisted, but in the end I did it, sensing where this was going and, to my shame, wanting it a little.

—You’re so delicious, so fair —he said, running his hands over my buttocks. —I couldn’t get a good look at you the other day.

He pinched my nipples and touched my cock, which rose on its own at the contact.

—Look, you’re getting hard. I like that.

He lowered his pants, revealing a large, dark, curved, rock-hard member. He made me touch it and then pushed me down by the shoulders until I was kneeling.

—I’ve never done this —I said.

—There’s a first time for everything.

He took me by the hair and slowly forced me to put it in my mouth. Despite the situation, the way he treated me and that size aroused me. I gradually gave in, drifting into a state of rapture, until I ended up sucking him uncontrollably, licking him all the way to his balls.

He laid me on the table, sucked my nipples, squeezed my genitals, and put his fingers inside me. Gentle convulsions ran through me, along with moans I couldn’t silence.

—Do you like it, my blondie? —he said as he lifted my legs and spread my thighs.

He pressed his glans against my opening and slid it back and forth, splitting me open. I held out until he was completely inside. He leaned over and kissed me on the lips; bashfully, I accepted.

—Do you like it? —he repeated, pumping gently.

I said nothing, but my face gave me away, and that made him speed up until he made me moan. He kissed me harder. I felt something different, a total surrender, while his movements shook my own cock from side to side. Then he lowered me, bent me over the table, spread my legs wide, and penetrated me again with greater force, his naked body pressed against mine.

—It’s been more than fifteen days since I’ve fucked. With you, it’s going to be a delight —he said.

That penetration unsettled me more with every passing second. My moans gave away my state, and he sped up to the rhythm of my cries until, after several frantic minutes, he came inside me. When he pulled out, he brought my face toward his member and, without resisting, I cleaned it with my tongue, tasting that bitter yet seductive flavor. I ended up masturbating while I did it.

***

I tried to pull away from that unexpected affair, or whatever you want to call it. I kept seeing Tomás a couple of times, without telling him what was happening with his brother. But a few days later, freshly bathed and wrapped in a towel, waiting specifically for Tomás, the doorbell rang. It was Andrés. A cold sweat ran through me.

—I’m alone —I told him nervously.

—I know.

—My mother could be back any minute.

—Unlikely. I saw her go into the hair salon —he said, taking my hand and bringing it to his bulge. —I’ll give you a couple of quick fucks and leave happy.

He came in, locked the door, and took off my towel. His hurried groping made me hard. He lifted me, I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he impaled me in a single thrust, amid cries of pleasure and surprise. He rose and fell over that rigid piston as we kissed nonstop, until he came, flooding me inside. I ended up on my knees, sucking his member, still wet with his own semen.

Then he took me to my room, got completely naked, and invited me to lie beside him. He made me put my face between his legs, and I didn’t hesitate to lick him until we drifted off for a while. I don’t know how much time passed. We played around; he put me on all fours and penetrated me again, pulling out and thrusting back in, changing positions, carrying me into a state of total rapture with his savage thrusts until he emptied himself inside me once more.

I wanted to masturbate, but he stopped me.

—My little brother is waiting for you —he said, getting dressed.

I stared at him in surprise. As soon as he left, I washed, put on cologne, and hurried to see Tomás, who was in a bad mood because I was late. I wanted to make up for keeping him waiting.

—What do you want me to do to you? —I asked.

—I don’t know.

—Do you want me to suck you?

—Really?

—Yes.

We both got naked, and I knelt as if in a secret ceremony. With all the subtlety I had learned, I licked his tense member, pulled back his foreskin, and left the glans exposed to the tip of my tongue—the thing that drove him crazy. I sucked him again and again, feeling his body shudder with every moan, while I slipped a finger inside him. He took my head in both hands, speeding up until he unloaded in my mouth. I detected a flavor like almonds, and for the first time I swallowed some of that fluid.

—Thank you. You’re a good friend —he told me, kissing me on the mouth.

Today, so many years later, I know that stone basement was my true school. I learned what desire, submission, and surrender were, and I learned that pleasure doesn’t always enter through the door one expects. I don’t regret it. Sometimes the memories we keep locked away are precisely the ones that define us most.